


toothpaste kisses

by pinkhearteyes



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Mentions of Smut, just a mess, richie and eddie live together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 03:44:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12762432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkhearteyes/pseuds/pinkhearteyes
Summary: Eddie's perspective, and also Richie's. They live together, and Richie leaves cupboards open. Eddie closes them for him, and in turn Richie loves him back with a passion that burns brighter than anything.





	toothpaste kisses

**Author's Note:**

> uhhh this whole fics is a weird mess but give it a chance

Eddie Kaspbrak and Richie Tozier move in together the year they turn 18.  
  
-  
  
The rent is shared, so it's cheaper. Cooking together is more fun, and so is watching wednesday-night television. This is what Eddie tells people when they ask.  
  
What he doesn't tell them, is how the best part is waking up each morning with Richie right there, soft with sleep, his face devoid of the glasses that he's usually wearing. Eddie enjoys waking up like this, tracing Richie's freckles with his thumb, Richie waking up under his touch, blinking sleepily.  
  
Of course, cooking for two is more fun. Once, on their first shared valentine's day, Richie had woken him up with suspiciously pink pancakes.  
  
"Food colouring!" Richie had said, grinning like a mad scientist.  
  
"I fucking hate you sometimes." Eddie said, but he didn't believe himself, he never would. He almost couldn't believe this was his life, either. Richie holding his hand under the dinner table, even if it made eating difficult.  
  
"You love me." Richie had said, fork in his mouth, and Eddie had nodded. Of course he does.  
  
They're comfortable in their shared kitchen, bumping hips in the small space as Eddie fries bell peppers from the farmer's market, and Richie rests his chin on his shoulder, playing with the material of Eddie's shirt, twisting it in his long fingers.  
  
Eddie learns more about Richie than he ever thought someone could learn about a person. For one, Richie leaves the cupboards open, wherever he goes. Eddie will enter the bathroom after Richie, on late nights when he's tired after working with Mike at the library. The toothpaste, and deodorant will stare back at him from the open cupboard, and Richie will start apologising the second Eddie lets out a frustrated whine.  
  
"I promise to close it next time!"  
  
"You won't, Richie."  
  
"Eddie...Don't be stupid, give me a kiss."  
  
Eddie won't. For a whole five minutes at least. When he rolls over, Richie will still be looking at him, with a gentle, expectant expression, and his kiss will taste of toothpaste. His arms around Eddie will feel more like home than any apartment ever could.  
  
Richie keeps a glass of water by their bed every night, and rarely drinks any of it at all.  
  
"It's called routines, Eds."  
  
Routines, my ass, Eddie will think as he plucks big stacks of half-full glasses from the bedroom floor, and brings them to the kitchen. It wouldn't be half as bad if only Richie brought them back to the kitchen after drinking - or not drinking - them.  
  
Eddie will still make sure to bring Richie his glass of water when he's sick. He does it without Richie having to ask, and the look he gets is always worth it.  
  
"If I wasn't sick right now I'd blow you so good the neighbours would leave a noise complaint." Richie rasped one time, coughing a little. Eddie had rolled his eyes, and tossed a packet of cough drops onto his chest. Richie's grin had been wide and irresistible, and Eddie had kissed him on the mouth, a brief peck, because  there was no way in hell he was risking getting sick. Even if Richie had looked at him with wide eyes, tugging at his shirt.  
  
"The only thing you should be blowing right now is your nose, babe." He said, and left the room after pressing a quick kiss to Richie's forehead. Richie's wheeze of a laugh had echoed out in the kitchen, and Eddie had smiled to himself.  
  
Richie wants to get a dog. He talks about where the water bowl would be in their kitchen. Eddie listens patiently the first, second, and sixtieth time Richie points out the perfect place  by the balcony door. Eddie hums, nods along, even though they both know all too well dogs aren't allowed in their building.  
  
Eddie will watch Richie swoon over dogs in the street, and grab hold of his hand, sudden and possessive. His love for Richie is consuming and bigger than life itself, almost. Richie will say nothing, will intertwine their fingers and kindly leave Eddie to his thoughts.  
  
They are known for celebrating the best parties in their little three room apartment. Luckily the living room is big and spacious, and perfectly fits their friends, and friends of their friends'. Christmas is particularly good. Their group of barely-twenty friends gathering in the living room, watching Christmas cartoons on TV.  
  
Their second Christmas in the apartment, when they are both nineteen, is the happiest Eddie feels like he's ever been. He is making mashed potatoes in the kitchen, and Bill asks him if he wants any help.  
  
"I'm good." He says, and smiles, genuinely.  
  
"This is the nicest Christmas ever." Bill says, and he doesn't meet Eddie's eyes, looks out the window, holding his glass of apple cider. Eddie feels his heart grow even fonder at Bill, and at the rest of them.  
  
Richie comes up behind him, pulls him into a brief hug.  
  
"I'll make the potatoes, babe."  
  
"Are you only doing this because Bill is here?"  
  
"Of course, honey. I wouldn't be so surprised if I were you."  
  
Bill smiles at them both. Eddie often thinks about that.  
  
One of the best feelings, is rainy evenings  
when the weather is grey and the world feels like it's had the life sucked out of it. Richie lights candles, like the soft little romantic he secretly is. He puts Ghostbusters on, and wraps them in blankets on the couch. It's too fucking good, Richie's warm hand under Eddie's shirt, the movie they've both seen at least ten times playing on the screen.  
  
One rainy movie night, they had ended up kissing, hotly and slowly on the couch. Eddie had buried his hands in Richie's ridiculous curls. Richie sighed into his mouth, and cursed quietly. Eddie's smile was wide enough to break the kiss. Richie had leaned back, and said:  
  
"Moving in with you was the best thing I've ever done."  
  
He ended the sentence with a kiss pressed to Eddie's mouth. Eddie felt like it was just him and Richie in the entire world, and Richie had pulled his sweats down, and put his hot mouth on Eddie, their bodies intertwining like their fingers, their mouths pressed against each other's skin. Eddie had opened his mouth and gasped into the living room. Richie had kissed him, swallowed all his noises. The room filled with the rustle of blankets, the sound of their connected lips creating sweet pieces of music Eddie records and replays billions of times over the following years of waking up and falling asleep right next to Richie, a safe and content circle outlined in gold.  
  
Moving in with Richie was the best thing he'd ever done.  
  
-  
  
Richie rarely lies. He enjoys introducing Eddie as his boyfriend, seeing him blush, and smile. The reactions are mostly positive. Richie doesn't befriend idiots.  
  
Eddie will curse him for leaving cupboards open, when Eddie is the one leaving change all over the apartment. In the first weeks of living together, Richie enjoys it. It's funny, sticking the coins in his own pocket, and telling Eddie about it at the grocery store. It's funny, sure, but it's also worth it for Eddie shoving his little hand in Richie's pocket, and fishing them out.  
  
"Your hands are so small."  
  
"Be quiet, you thief."  
  
The longer they live together though, it gets more annoying. Richie sighs and whines about it, but Eddie seems to only ever smile and shake it off, return to his phone call with Mike, or his reading.  
  
Eddie's hands are always soft, and so is his face. Richie's favourite thing to do is leave little kisses all over his cheeks.  
  
"Why is your face so soft?"  
  
"Moisturizer." Eddie claimed, blinking up at Richie, his eyes big and doe-like.  
  
Richie had huffed.  
  
"Moisturizer isn't very masculine."  
  
"Are you sure?" Eddie had teased, and his soft, hands had been toying with the waistband of Richie's jeans, and Richie couldn't exactly resist.  
  
Eddie buys him a tub of moisturizer a week later. He comes home from the grocery store, and his cheeks are rosy from the cold.  
  
"For your dry face." He had offered, and Richie was undeniably offended.  
  
"You think my face is dry? It's smooth as a baby's butt. Or, as your mother's."  
Eddie was all eye rolls. He usually is.  
  
Eddie is also a crier. This, Richie remembers from when they were younger. Eddie cries often, when they watch TV and a sad movie comes on, or when he finishes reading a book he loved. It's mostly happy tears, and Richie likes wiping them, and tucking Eddie's hair behind his ear, cupping his cheek gently.  
  
When it isn't happy tears, it's worse. Three months into living together, they had had their first argument, blown out of proportion and awful in the small space of the apartment. It was a mess of things, a combination of Richie being a mess and Eddie having met up with his mother earlier. "You're waisting your life away." She had said, and Richie knew she had, because Eddie had told him.  
  
Richie had gotten angry, at her, in Eddie's defense. It had gone all wrong, and they yelled. Richie had shrugged a jacket on, and walked aimlessly around the playground outside their apartment complex. He kicked the sand, sitting on the swings, and tossed his cigarette butt in the sad little pond. When he had calmed down, he had returned, more than a little ashamed.  
  
"I'm sorry for blowing up like that." He had mumbled into the crook of Eddie's neck, hugging him by the door. Eddie had pulled him into the shower, and run his hands through his hair. Richie and Eddie were silly like that, in love to the point of their friends complaining about it.  
  
"My teeth are going to rot!" Beverly sometimes says. Eddie swings his arm around Richie's shoulders, half perched on his lap, and Richie's chest is filled with butterflies, fluttering against his rib cage.  
  
On Eddie's birthday, Richie plans him a surprise party. Eddie had come home after shopping, and Beverly had been after him through the door, their friends going "Surprise!" even if it's stupid, and Eddie's eyes shone in the hallway.  
  
They sit on the balcony, and the night is warm and light pink in front of them. Eddie snatches a cigarette from Richie's fingers, smokes it himself, in the careful, almost responsible way of his.  
  
There's plates of birthday cake beside them, and they hear the laughter of their friends from inside the living room, where they've started up a game of cards. Soon, Richie and Eddie will join them, sitting close together. Richie feels nostalgic around his friends, of course he does. He's known them for years, now, but they're still here, sitting in a circle in his living room, in his and Eddie's living room, and Richie feels a bit overwhelmed.  
  
"What are you thinking about?" Eddie asks, his angle pressed against Richie's.  
  
"I bet you'd wanna know, Eddie Spaghetti." He says, and it's fond, he means it to come out that way.  
  
"Of course I do." Eddie smiles, to no one in particular. Maybe to the evening, with its pale clouds stretching across the sky.  
  
"I'm so lucky I have you in my life." Eddie says, softly. He crushes the cigarette against the floor of the balcony.  
  
"You wanna go back inside?" He asks, and Richie nods.  
  
Richie's chest feels light, as if there's a balloon stuck in there. They sit down, and their friends ask for more cake, and shuffle the cards for a new round. Eddie puts his hand on Richie's knee, rests it there for the remainder of the evening. Eddie, his dear boyfriend who sleeps without socks on and bullies Richie for sleeping with socks on. Eddie, whose favourite activity is shopping for christmas decorations, and who can listen to Richie talk about his favourite movie for half an hour, nodding patienly along. Eddie with the soft hands and swirly hair.  
  
Richie is lucky to have him in his life.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! i'm my own worst critic but like fr this is so messy and just... weird....
> 
> there's a new chapter of the travel fic in the works i promise.
> 
> leave a comment if u liked it!! it'll make my day!!! 
> 
> title from toothpaste kisses by the maccabees because i listened to it on repeat a year ago.


End file.
